


And Then There Were Two

by KaterinaRiley



Series: A Warlock in San Antonio [2]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Night Shift (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Be warned: Kenny has a very minor part, Gen, Magic Revealed, Modern Era, implied Merlin/Arthur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaterinaRiley/pseuds/KaterinaRiley
Summary: Merlin gets sick and conjures Gwaine into the present, causing quite the headache for TC. How is he supposed to keep this from Jordan? And how are they supposed to get him—Gwaine, past-him...whatever—back to his normal timeline without royally messing this up?--Okay, fine. Fine.” [Merlin] took a deep breath. “I accidentally summoned Gwaine from the past when I sneezed and we both freaked and he hit head on my table and now he’s bleeding and bound up in the back of my car.”“…You lost me at ‘accidently summoned Gwaine.’"





	And Then There Were Two

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I'm terrible, I know I know. I have issues with these strange concepts called 'time' and 'time management' and 'university'. 
> 
> BUT I've already written the third installment of this so yay on me! :) :) ~~it's really short though don't hate~~
> 
> I'm thinking up how to write the fourth installment already too. (Wahoo I'm on a roll, baby!) So be on the look out for that coming out ~~in twenty billion years~~ sometime in the near or far future!

It was one of Those™ nights. Most of the week was one of Those™ nights, but this one was particularly bad. It wasn't because of the injuries people came in with, those were relatively trivial. No, it was because of the people with the injuries.  _And_  their friends. Tonight had been one of the biggest football games of the season, and San Antonio had been utterly demolished. Drunk, angry fans flooded the ER, so it was no surprise when TC heard yelling at the front desk. But when he heard his name being shouted, he ran down the hall faster.

"I need TC! It's an emergency!"

"Sir, you need to calm down right now."

"What seems to be the— _Merlin_?"

"You know this crazy Brit?" Kenny asked, his tone lacking his usual patience and charm.

It took a second for TC to gather his bearings. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I got this. Go check on some patients."

Kenny had barely turned around when Merlin grabbed TC's hand and begin pulling him away from the lobby.

"Whoa, whoa, wait, Merlin,  _wait_." Merlin did not wait. TC kept talking though, trying to get the man to stop. "I can't just leave during my shift! Look, there's about an hour until my shift is over, can whatever-this-is wait?"

"It's an emergency," Merlin muttered, still pulling him along. "Trust me, you need to come with me now."

When they left the building, headed towards the parking lot, TC yanked his wrist out of Merlin's grasp, which wasn't difficult considering the man look sick as hell.

"Okay, you need to tell me exactly what's going on. Merlin, there's emergencies happening in there, in the ER. That's where I'm needed. And frankly, you should be in bed. You look awful."

Sighing, Merlin wrapped his hands around his midsection. "Yeah, I'm sick. It's not Normal sick though, it's—"

"Magic sick?" TC guessed, not even sure what  _that_ kind of illness could even entail. "How can I help you with that? I don't know anything about magic."

"That's not the emergency."

"Then what is?" He was quickly losing his patience.

Merlin sighed again. "It would be easier to show you."

TC stood his ground.

"Okay, fine. Fine." He took a deep breath. "I accidentally summoned Gwaine from the past when I sneezed and we both freaked and he hit head on my table and now he's bleeding and bound up in the back of my car."

"…You lost me at 'accidently summoned Gwaine.'"

Merlin groaned. "Just come to my car."

Whatever TC was expecting to see, not even Merlin's confusing explanation prepared him. When you look at your face in a mirror and in photos, it looks normal. That's what you see all your life. Nothing strange about that. But when you see your face on another person—who has long hair, a beard, and blood running down from a laceration on their temple—it doesn't look normal. Maybe to someone who's a twin, but TC doesn't have a twin.

"Holy shit."

"I told you."

After the initial shock of seeing himself, TC's instincts took over, and he bent down to examine the cut.

"This is deep, Merls. He… I… This man needs stiches."

"Can you do it out here?"

"Not without sterile equipment. Which is back at the hospital." He straightened up, facing Merlin. "I can't just walk back in there and then walk out again though."

"What if I magicked them here?"

"Merlin," TC deadpanned, "You sneezed and summoned my past self into this world. I do not trust you using magic right now."

A blush tinged his paler-than-usual cheeks. "…Fair point."

And right then, because things always have to get more complicated when it comes to Merlin, Gwaine woke up.

"Whe…Where am I…?" His gaze shifted to Merlin and his eyes hardened. "You! Unhand me now! I am a knight of Camelot, and you  _will_  release me, you imposter!" Then his glare turned to TC. He looked confused at first, which TC sympathized with since he still couldn't wrap his brain around the situation, but then Gwaine's anger returned. "What sorcery is this?! You have my face! That's  _my_  face! Take it off! Take it off!"

"It's a long story, buddy," TC said, his hands raised placentally. "You have nasty cut on your face. I have to clean and stitch it up for you. Is that okay?"

"You will not touch me!"

It was an ironic statement considering that in the next moment, Gwaine managed to undo his bonds—TC is going to have to teach Merlin about  _checking_ his unexpected guests for damn  _daggers_  in case this ever happens again, which hopefully it won't—and jumped, dagger first, out of the car and towards TC.

Despite the dangerously sharp weapon, the fight was over quickly. Disarming Gwaine was easier than TC expected, but he did have modern, more effective moves on the guy—er, his past self. On Gwaine. (Ugh, this was too confusing.) Being disarmed didn't seem to deter him though; he'd begun throwing punches immediately, managing to hit TC's stomach before he could even think to dodge. Right before TC could stand up and throw his own punch, the other crumbled to the ground. It took a second for him to understand what just happened.

"Did… Did you just hit him with a tire iron?" TC demanded.

Merlin dropped the iron from his hands. "I tried to separate you two, but instead…" he trailed off and TC noticed the swarm of blue butterflies that had definitely not been there a few minutes ago. "I grabbed the closest thing I could find."

"A  _tire iron_?" He was standing up now, brushing the dirt off his jeans. This was not sanitary in the slightest.

"Clearly yes! What else was I supposed to do?" Then, as if for affect, he sneezed and a few more butterflies appeared from out of nowhere. Red, this time.

TC spared a second to glare disapprovingly at Merlin before bending down and reexamining his past self. "Anything but a  _tire iron_. Now he needs two sets of stitches  _and_ a CT scan. Probably has a concussion. Not to mention, we've no idea what sort of diseases he'd brought with him."

"Hey now, it wasn't  _that_ bad," Merlin protested, though he did look contrite.

There was nothing else that could be done. Not out here.

Sighing, TC began lifting Gwaine off the ground. He stayed unconscious, which TC counted as a blessing.

"Help me get him inside," he grunted, grabbing under Gwaine's arms. Damn, this chainmail was a lot heavier than he expected. Which brings up a good point. "If anyone asks, tell them he's my twin and was at a medieval fair thing, so he doesn't have identification or anything on him, got it?"

Merlin rolled his eyes as he lifted Gwaine's feet and began walking back towards the hospital. "I got it, TC. I'm not an idiot."

 _Don't be an idiot,_ Mer _lin_.

The memory emerged with blinding flashes of red and gold, sending a chill up TC's spine. Sometimes he hated these memories that weren't quite his. The shorter ones weren't so bad, but the longer ones made him queasy, and sometimes he would lose track of which version he was. It usually lasted for a few seconds at most, but when the memories first started assaulting him, right after he had met Merlin for the first time, the dissociation persisted for hours. Combining his untreated PTSD with his newly discovered reincarnation, he was left more of a mess than he'd ever care to admit. It's a surprise Jordan stayed with him at all during those times. Well, stayed with him until he finally managed to push her away.

"TC, what's going on?"

In just a few short blinks, everything refocused, and he watched as Jordan's professional visage began cracking at the sight of seeing two of him—one unconscious and in clothing that would confuse anyone on a normal day.

"Laceration to the side and back of his head," he managed to say. With all the strength he had, he and Merlin lifted him up on a gurney one of the nurses brought them. Thank God for nurses, always knowing exactly what to do. "The back one is bleeding severely. He's my. Twin." It felt so strange saying that.

"Merlin?" Gwaine slurred, his eyes fluttering open. "We need more mead. We've run out…"

"He's delusional," Jordan muttered, quickly taking Merlin's spot, and helping push Gwaine to a room.

TC couldn't stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief; "Thank God." The more people thought he was delusional, the better for Merlin.

Jordan quirked an eyebrow at that, but refrained from saying anything until they were alone in a trauma room.

"Why does he look like you?"

"I told you. He's my—"

"Yeah, I don't buy that bullshit for a second." Jordan snapped her gloves on and began checking the lacerations. "You don't have a twin, Callahan. I would know."

TC hesitated, trying to make light of the situation. "You know I didn't tell you  _everything_  about my life."

It wasn't a lie. He never told her about Merlin and everything attached to him. She merely rolled his eyes at him.

"Has this man taken a bath recently? He smells like shit," she complained.

"He wanted to, uh, get into character. For the, um, medieval fair," Merlin interjected, walking up beside TC and wiping his nose with a Kleenex. "Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine," TC answered at the same time Jordan said, "There's no medieval fair going on around here for weeks."

Merlin's ears turned slightly pink. "Ah, yes, well he wanted to get a head start."

"On not bathing?" Jordan asked incredulously. Then, "You know what, never mind. Let's just do our jobs, TC. And when he's all stitched up, you two can tell me  _exactly_ what is going on."

The same though ran through both their minds:  _Well, fuck_.

x~xXx~x

Jordan glared at them so severely, TC was sure there was a burning hole on his face from her stare. He didn't really blame her.

"So, who's going to talk first?" she asked, gingerly bringing the coffee cup to her lips. Her bandaged hand somehow made her seem even more terrifying than usual.

TC looked immediately to Merlin. There was  _no way_ he was going to explain what had happened. Merlin had the same thought apparently, since he was looking at TC expectantly. They stayed silent, waiting for the other to being talking.

" _Men_ ," Jordan muttered after several minutes of silence. Louder she said, "Look, boys, I already know you're both hiding something. TC, I hate to admit it, but I can read you like a book. And you, Merlin," she said his name as if she still didn't quite believe him, "I may not know you, but you're a terrible liar. I can already see it on your face. So, one of you, please explain to me why a man shouting 'sorcerer'and 'imposter'more times than I can count, tried to  _kill_ you both and gave me this," she held up her hand.

It was a bit ironic actually. They were (trying to have) this discussion in the café that TC and Merlin would meet up in. Their shift had ended, though Gwaine was still lying in a hospital bed, this time under heavy anesthesia.

"Well?" Jordan prompted, her eyebrow raised impatiently.

Finally, TC broke. "Jordan, you're really not going to believe it."

"Try me."

He looked at Merlin—for advice, encouragement,  _anything_ —but at the man's silence, he sighed in defeat. Downing the last of his coffee, he began talking.

"Okay, so yeah, that man is not my twin. He's…uh, he's…. You know what, I'll just get to that in a second. So, um, I guess I'll start with this. Magic. It exists. Merlin's got it. He's  _the_ Merlin. The one from the stories. Which, by the way, are completely wrong. Like, it's crazy how wrong they are. Well, I mean there's a  _few_ things they got right. But the majority is laughably inaccurate. How do I know this? Well, I'm the reincarnation of one of the Knights of the Round Table. I'm Gwaine's reincarnation, to be specific. And yes, the man who looks like me lying in a hospital bed is  _not_ my twin, but the knight that I was reincarnated from. He's Gwaine. Who I was reincarnated from. Because magic. Is real. Merlin has it. Um…"

Halfway through, TC realized how completely, one hundred percent  _insane_ he sounded, but he couldn't find a way to make his words sound less laughable. Had he not been assaulted by a waveof memories that  _couldn't have possibly been his_ after meeting Merlin the first time, he probably would've laughed in his face at the thought of being some knight's reincarnation.

There was a long stretch of silence before Jordan found her voice.

"You're kidding me." Her eyes darted between them. "You're… You  _have_  to be kidding me. There's no way… There… What kind of joke  _is_  this?"

A blue butterfly appeared in her hand.

She screamed, trying to shake it off. The other patrons of the café looked at her strangely, but quickly went back to their own private conversations, as if a woman screaming was an everyday sight.

Merlin retracted his hand from hers and calmly took a sip of his hot tea.

"How did you do that?" Jordan demanded, standing stiffly. "How did you do  _this_?" She brandished her hand, where there was no more gauze and her palm smooth flesh. Not even a faint line could be seen. The only abnormality was the blue butterfly that stayed attached to her palm.

"Magic," Merlin said, adding more tea and milk to his cup. "Did you not hear what TC said?"

Her eyes squinted slightly, a gesture TC recognized as her beginning to accept something she previously denied, but not being happy about it.

"But magic is just tricks. It's a fairy tale."

He took another sip of tea. "Then how do you explain that?"

She looked back down at her hand, slowly sitting back down. After a few more minutes of silence, she quietly asked, "Why isn't the butterfly flying away?"

"Oh. Um…" Merlin rubbed his neck, his ears pinkening. "Well, that seems to be my magic's go to. When I'm sick."

Jordan blinked. "You're sick?"

Merlin sneezed in answer. More butterflies appeared, a mixture of blue and red. There were a few purple ones too.

"…I'm still not quite sure I believe this," Jordan whispered, staring at the butterflies in awe. One of them landed on a nearby couple, but neither seemed to notice or care. "Can't they see them?" she asked.

"Yes, but my magic is strong," Merlin explained. "When something like this happens, for instance, when I'm sick, my magic has a way of protecting itself. People who don't know me and see my magic will treat it as if it's normal. By the time they remember it's not, they tend to dismiss their memories as tricks of the eye or some natural phenomenon."

"Right. Of course. Makes sense," Jordan muttered, her eyes going back to the butterflies. "So, this magic-veil-glamour-thing happens only when you're sick? If you're not sick, it won't happen?"

"Not quite. It happens when I can't control what my magic does, for example, when I sneeze and make butterflies appear out of thin air," he explained.

"Then when else does it happen? Other than being sick, I mean," she asked, curiosity burning behind her eyes. If she was going to believe that magic is actually real, she might as well as all the questions that pop in her head.

Merlin blinked. He took another sip of his tea. A long one this time. When he put his empty cup down, he was somber. "I'm very old, Jordan. I've seen a lot of good and bad, and sometimes the bad is too much."

Widening, her eyes slid to TC. "You mean like PTSD?"

"Exactly like PTSD."

TC thought back to the time he found Merlin's track scars. They were faint, but easily recognizable. He had to force himself from thinking of all the times Merlin had been alone. He was the first reincarnation, Merlin had told him. The first one since they'd all died. TC didn't want to think of the implications of that. He couldn't let himself dwell on questions like,  _Where was Lance? Percival? Gwen?_ And he definitely couldn't let his mind wonder to where  _Morgana_ was or  _Arthur_. He couldn't blame Merlin for wanting to feel numb from it all. Though he did make him promise to never touch a drug in that way again. It spoke volumes that Merlin hadn't joked about it; he had immediately promised TC, his voice grave and sincere.

Merlin's second sneeze broke the trio out of their respected reveries. This time, Merlin's skin turned green and his hair a bright yellow. It turned back within seconds, but that was enough for TC.

"Alright, so that's the cue. Merlin, I'm taking you home  _now_. You need to rest."

"But I can't leave Gwaine," Merlin protested. "I have to get him back. Somehow."

Shit, he's right, TC thought. If Gwaine woke up again, with neither him nor Merlin around, and someone even  _thought_ that he was telling the truth… Or worse, they believed him to be some sort of criminal schizophrenic and lock him up… Neither of those could happen.

"I'll take you home," Jordan offered. "TC can come by later with Gwaine."

"He's not going to come with me willingly," TC said. "How am I supposed to bring him anywhere in his state."

Jordan grinned at him. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

x~xXx~x

"YOU SNUCK HIM OUT!?"

"You told me to think of something!"

"Something  _LEGAL_!"

TC groaned. "What else was I supposed to do? He's still under the effects of anesthesia and I couldn't just discharge him without any identification. Kenny said he'll cover for me."

It took a lot of physical restrain for Jordan not to repeatedly bash her head against the wall. "Kenny is going to want an explanation and there are  _cameras_ —!"

"We avoided the cameras!"

"Geeze, mum and da, could you keep your bickering to a minimum?"

They whipped towards Merlin, both with grimaces on their faces, ready to take out their frustrations on the warlock.

"What do you mean mo—?!"

"Jesus, Merlin not now—"

Neither could finish their sentences. Not when Merlin was a  _literal child_  in blue plaid pajamas with a stuffed bunny held loosely in his arms. And he was  _rubbing his eyes_. He was the poster child for cuteness!

"I'm trying to sleep here. Arseholes."

There was something eerily charming about a practical toddler cursing in a British accent.

"Um, Merlin," TC started, trying to figure out if she should laugh or be worried or continue yelling his anger out. "Have you… Have you looked in a mirror?"

Merlin shook his head and sneezed. Blue and red butterflies appeared in his hair like a crown.

"No. Why?"

"You're… Uh, you are…" Jordan blinked a few times, as if to make sure what she was seeing was actually what she was seeing. "You're a child."

If anything, Merlin took it in stride.

"Dammit, not again." He didn't appear to attempt to revert himself. "I take it you got Gwaine?"

TC nodded. "Yeah, uh, he's crashing on your couch. Hope that's cool."

"So long as he doesn't try to break my record player again. That's expensive and literally irreplaceable."

It was the serious look that did it. No child should look that serious about a  _record player_. And the way he said  _expensive_ … Jordan and TC doubled over laughing.

"This isn't funny."

His foot stomp didn't help matters. In the end, he turned around with a huff and waddled back to his room, muttering about  _old married couples_ and  _arseholes the lot of Americans_ , leaving the two doctors on his kitchen floor.

"I haven't laughed that hard in ages," Jordan murmured, tears threatening to leave her eyes.

"Me neither," TC replied, wiping away the tear that escaped. Then, quieter, he said, "I've missed you."

He didn't expect her to say anything. He half-wished he'd kept his mouth shut. There was no use dwelling in the past; in  _what-if_ s and  _maybe_ s.

But then, even quieter than his own declaration, Jordan said, "I've missed you too."

In that moment, on the kitchen floor of a centuries-old warlock who hasn't tidied up in what looks like decades, everything was okay. Everything would be okay. There was hope.

x~xXx~x

"So, how did you two meet?" Jordan asked, reaching out to take one of the cups from TC's hands.

"It's a long story," he replied, sitting down across from her.

Once they'd started losing feeling in their rear ends, they'd decided it was time to get up from their position on the floor and sit like the adults they were supposed to be—at the kitchen table. Merlin and Gwaine were still sound asleep in their respective places, and neither wanted to leave the house.

For TC, he had a sense of duty to stay—Merlin was his friend and Gwaine was his past self. It would be rude to leave. He thinks.

For Jordan, leaving gave way to the possibility that she could forget everything.

"I think we've got some time," Jordan said. "You don't have to tell me everything, but…" Her eyes dropped to the table for a split second before she looked back up to him, soft determination in her eyes. "I'd like to know. I want to know more about you."

"Okay." TC smiled, trying to squelch the feeling blossoming in his chest. "It was when I came back from the war. After Thad died. We kinda ran into each other late one night. I couldn't sleep and was just walking, trying to forget…"

It felt good. Talking to Jordan about this. And just talking. To Jordan. For a moment, he wondered what could've been, had the baby survived. Had their relationship survived.

But he couldn't let himself slip into that fantasy. If he did…he might not be able to get back out.

As TC's story came to its end, a loud bang echoed throughout the house. It came from the living room.

"GWAINE!" Merlin's voice rang out. "Gwaine, stop, it's me!"

Jordan and TC bolted from their chairs, arriving just in time to watch adult-Merlin's eyes glow gold and a bubble-barrier of sorts was cast around Gwaine's body.

"I see you're feeling better," TC commented.

"Nothing some hot tea and sleep can't fix," Merlin replied. Then, "Gwaine's awake."

TC watched as Gwaine shouted and banged against the bubble, but heard nothing. "Really? Couldn't tell."

"Why can't we hear him?" Jordan asked.

"It's the bubble. I'm hoping he'll tire himself out so we can talk without him trying to kill us." Merlin didn't look so sure about that last part.

After a beat of silence, TC asked, "And if he doesn't tire himself out?"

Merlin grimaced. "He should. He's human."

That wasn't very helpful.

x~xXx~x

"What's that god-awful smell?" Jordan asked, plugging her nose.

Merlin walked in from the kitchen. "It's mead, the way Gwaine likes it."

Gwaine was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, and glaring angrily. He finally stopped shouted and banging on the barrier, but he didn't look any less dangerous.

"I'm hoping it can be a peace offering of sorts."

"Weren't you trying to find the spell to send him back?" TC asked.

Merlin cautiously slid the cup of mead on the floor, into Gwaine's bubble. The good news: Gwaine didn't slap it or toss it about or go back to yelling and banging his fists. The bad news: Gwaine didn't do anything. He just stayed there, sitting in resolute and eerie silence.

"Oh, I already found that. But we can't just send him back; what if he thinks we've cast a spell on him? He might do something stupid just so he won't hurt me. Or Arthur."

"Maybe you should just talk to him?" TC suggested.

Jordan chimed in, "Why don't you just show him?"

"Show him? What do you mean?" Merlin asked, confused.

Looking a bit uncomfortable, Jordan shrugged. "Show him. You know," she waved her hands around vaguely. "You're magic, right? Can't you just, like, show him that you're the real Merlin? Touch him and show him memories? Or show him something only the real you would have or do or something?"

Merlin blinked a few times, but then he smiled his Cheshire-cat grin. "Jordan! You're brilliant!"

Kissing her cheek, he dashed off, confusing all three in the room. (TC firmly reminded himself that Jordan and he  _weren't_ an item any more, and kissing cheeks was a common thing where Merlin was from.) When he reutned, TC watched as Gwaine stiffened. There was a small trinket in his hands. It looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

Gwaine began talking again, but it was easy to decipher what he was saying, especially since he was pointing at it.

" _Where did you get that?"  
_

Merlin sat in front of the bubble, holding out the trinket. It was a crudely wooden figure. A…A castle?

"Remember when you snuck into my room before daybreak? I know you did that about a thousand times, but this one was different. It was special. Nothing happened. It was just you and me. No bandits, not running away, no sorcerers threatening someone's life. Do you remember, Gwaine? You had convinced me to run away with you and have an adventure that particular morning instead of following after Arthur all day long…"

TC listened as Merlin recounted the story of their past adventure. He remembered this now, already having had a flashback about it years ago, though the memory bubbled back to the surface again. He could almost picture it detail-for-detail. They'd snuck to a nearby town, one with a tavern that hadn't banned Gwaine completely yet. The entire day, they laughed and drank and pulled some of the best pranks of his life, which of course resulted in him being  _completely_ banned from that particular tavern. As they ran into the night, tears streaming down their cheeks and stomachs aching from all their laughter and mead, they realized they were completely and irrevocably lost. And then it had begun raining.

" _Here! A cave!"_

" _How convenient," Merlin mused looking around at their rocky shelter._

" _Almost like magic."_

_The cave echoed with the sound of joyous laughter that hinged a bit towards hysteria. Gwaine was still a bit high on the mead. Merlin too._

" _Arthur is soooo going to kill me when we get back." Merlin flashed Gwaine a grin. "Worth it."_

_Gwaine giggled. "Merlin, that man couldn't hurt a hair on your head. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"_

" _Yeah, like he wants to throw another shoe. At my head." He absentmindedly rubbed at the spot where Arthur had probably thrown a shoe at his head the day before._

_Rolling his eyes, Gwaine nearly said more, but left it. Merlin would realize. Eventually. (Arthur too. Gods willing.) Arthur and he were strangely inseparable. You couldn't really think of one without thinking of the other as well. They were the best of friends, better than friends. Closer. But neither of them quite knew that yet. They'd figure it out. Sooner or later. Maybe. Hopefully._

" _Got some wood?" he asked instead._

_Merlin looked at him strangely for a moment, but replied, "There's trees outside. Have at it."_

_Gwaine looked outside, where it was pouring rain. Lightening flashed._

" _Eh, why not."_

_He was back before another lightening bolt could flash in the sky._

" _What's this for?" Merlin asked as chunk of wood was dumped in his lap._

_Gwaine bent down, arranging the other bits of wood on the floor. "Well, fire for starters. And fun for seconds."_

_Merlin frowned. "The wood's wet. You can't start a fire like that."_

_Shrugging, Gwaine said, "Arthur's done it before. I can too."_

_It took a few tried but he eventually managed. When he turned smugly at Merlin, the man shrugged and smiled, but the smile seemed more devious in nature than impressed with Gwaine's amazing skills. He dismissed it for still being a little drunk."_

" _What did you mean for fun?" Merlin asked once Gwaine was settled back down beside him._

" _Have you ever whittled before?" he asked, handing him a knife._

"… _Yes."_

_Gwaine beamed. "Good. Let's do a contest to pass the time. It doesn't look like this storm is going to let up soon. So, whoever has the most creative and best deigned thing wins."_

_Laughing, Merlin said, "Oh, you're so going to lose, Gwaine."_

" _As if!"_

Merlin had made him a beautifully sculpted dragon. He had made—well, tried to make—Camelot. He blamed it on the mead, but he actually wasn't that good at whittling to begin with. He'd just hoped Merlin had been worse then him. He hadn't been, but in the end, it didn't matter.

As the story came to a close, TC watched as Gwaine slowly raised a hand, pressing it against the bubble.

" _It's… It's really you. Merlin, it's you, isn't it,_ " he mouthed.

In answer, Merlin's eyes flashed and the bubble disappeared.

"Yes, Gwaine. It's me."

The man looked around, as if for the first time.

"What's going on? Where am I?" When his eyes fell to TC, they hardened. "And who is that?"

"You're in the future, Gwaine. At my house. And that," he nodded towards TC, "is your reincarnation."

For a moment, Gwaine didn't speak, just looked at TC and around the room. No one dared to move, let alone breathe, for fear he would attack suddenly.

Finally, Gwaine looked at Jordan, winked, and said, "At least I still have good taste in women."

Merlin groaned. " _Really_? I tell you all that, I  _show_ you that I have  _magic_ , and you  _hit on_ the only woman in the room?"

Before anyone else could respond, which was good since TC wasn't sure how to deal with that comment at all, Jordan laughed. She honest-to-God, doubled-over laughed. Clutching her stomach and everything.

"Sorry, sorry," she said breathlessly. "It's just… This is all so surreal. I couldn't help it."

Soon, everyone was laughing. Gwaine, grinning from ear-to-ear, clapped Merlin on the back, whispered, "You know, I think I always knew…" Merlin just nodded, placing his own arm around Gwaine's shoulders. There was the hint of tears in his eyes. TC laughed like a man who couldn't quite believe what was happening but enjoying it nonetheless. (That's exactly how he felt.)

The sharp sound of a phone broke the ease of the room.

"It's Kenny." Jordan sighed, looking at her screen. "Guess I have to go clean up your mess, Callahan."

"Maybe he's asking you to dinner?" TC suggested, knowing that definitely wasn't the case, but enjoying the way it got Jordan to look at him in that exasperated, you're-lucky-you're-cute way.

As she left the room, she said, "I'm sure that's what it is, Callahan. You owe me."

"Oh."

TC turned back to Gwaine, frowning. The man was staring wide-eyed after Jordan. Specifically, the device she held up to her ear.

"This… This really is the future."

Merlin bit his lip. "Gwaine, here. Take the mead. I've got a lot of explaining to do."

For a moment, it didn't seem like he was going to accept Merlin's offer, but finally he reached out for the cup.

"Alright, Merlin. Give it here."

x~xXx~x

It was weird, watching your face as someone tells the story of what basically constitutes your life. Well, your death. And then your after-death and how the world changed with it.

For his own life, Merlin was quite vague with Gwaine. Barely going into many details. It seemed enough for Gwaine.

"Mate, I don't know why you're so worried. I won't tell a soul about this. I've always had an inkling that you weren't quite as," he paused, choosing his words, " _mundane_  as the rest of us. Didn't quite go as far as thinking you're the  _most powerful_ , holy shit, but yeah. It's all good."

Merlin smiled sheepishly. But it soon disappeared.

"Gwaine… I'm so sorry, but… I can't send you back without—"

"No," Gwaine cut him off, horror dawning on his. "No, Merlin don't—I want to remember this."

Merlin grimaced and refused to meet Gwaine's eyes. "I wish you could. But you can't. It's too dangerous."

And for the first time since this discussion started, Gwaine looked at TC.

"You're just going to stand there and—and  _let him_ just wipe away our memories of this? Really?!"

Oh fuck, he hadn't been expecting this. Especially on so little sleep.

"I… I mean, I don't remember this ever happening. To me, this is all… New," he floundered.

That didn't seem to sit well with Gwaine.

"So?" he cried. "Maybe you just haven't remembered yet! Flashbacked or whatever. Why would you want him to take this away from us?"

TC looked down at the floor, unsure what to say. Merlin was right, Gwaine can't remember this, for everyone's safety. How could TC convey this to the man who is one of Merlin's closest friends?

"I…" Gwaine shook his head. A few tears spilled down his face. "I can't believe you. Me. Have I changed  _that_ much?"

He blinked a few times, clearing the tears from his eyes. Looking back up with shoulders squared, he asked, "Can I… Can I at least have a day? A day in this world. Even if I won't remember it, I want to see you, Merlin. As you are."

Merlin opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His own eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"I think that's a great idea," TC said, breaking the silence. "You can even borrow my clothes. Though, take a shower first, will ya?"

Gwaine finally looked at him without distain or mistrust. He even smiled a little.

"Thank you."

x~xXx~x

TC wasn't sure what Merlin and Gwaine did, or where on earth they could've gone, but they returned happy and smelling faintly like fast food. He faintly wondered if he'll ever know, ever remember, but he pushed the thought away. That time was for Merlin and Gwaine. Despite being his reincarnation, TC was  _not_ Gwaine, and to be perfectly frank, he was happy about that. The two friends should have something between just them. It seemed right.

Plus, TC finally got to sleep. He hoped Jordan managed some rest into her schedule as well.

The farewell between the three of them was bittersweet. They exchanged goodbyes and a few jokes, but no one's heart was into it. When Merlin finally touched his palm to Gwaine's cheek, the man's eyes flashed gold and rolled into the back of his head as his knees buckled beneath his now-unconscious body weight. Merlin caught him with tears rolling down his eyes. Then, with a whispered word, the Knight of Camelot existed no more.

All was still. It seemed time had frozen, but a tremble of Merlin's shoulders told the truth. Slowly, TC walked behind Merlin, knelt down, and tentatively put his hand on the trembling shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, already knowing the answer.

A loud sob ripped itself from Merlin's throat, and TC held Merlin as all his bottled-up emotions found their way to the surface.

Despite the nearly incomprehensible speech, TC could make out a bit of what Merlin was muttering. Apologies. To Gwaine. To him. Questions about his decision. His magic. Confessions. How he sees himself a failure. To the world, to his friends. To Arthur.

It was well-over an hour before Merlin quieted down. He pulled himself away from TC's arms, not quite seeming embarrassed, but also not quite seeming comfortable either.

Perhaps it was because he felt guilty for what he said. Perhaps he didn't want TC to hear all of his doubts.

"I'm sorry," TC said, not knowing what else to do. He didn't say  _It'll be okay_. He knew better than that from his own experience.

Merlin wiped his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "I have class in the morning… Dinner tomorrow?"

"Sure." TC tried to smile, but he's afraid it might've turned into more of a grimace. Squeezing Merlin's shoulder one last time, he said, "See you then."

He's almost to the door when he heard a voice softly say, "I'm sorry about Jordan," but it was so quiet, he wasn't sure if his ear were playing tricks on him.

Later, at the hospital, he realized that wasn't the case.

"Gwaine got back safely," he whispered to Jordan during a short lull.

She frowned. "Who?"

For a moment, TC thought he might cry. Deep down, he knew this would happen, but he'd buried it so deep so that he wouldn't dwell on it. He had finally managed to make a connection with Jordan again, managed to hopefully start something fresh. But that possibility disappeared, just as Gwaine had; right before his eyes and with magic.

"N-Nothing. Never mind. I've got a patient to check on." He left quickly, finding the nearest bathroom to splash cold water in his face and look menacingly at his reflection.

 _It's not Merlin's fault_ , he reminded himself.  _It was Merlin's sick-magic that she saw, so when she left, his magic protected himself._

_It's. Not. Merlin's. Fault._

_You knew this would happen._

After a few more minutes of glaring, he took a deep breath, shook his head one last time, and went back out into the sterile, white walls of San Antonio Hospital. He had a job to do.

And Jordan was safer this way anyway. Though rare, there were still creatures of magic looming in the night. By not knowing, she was safer.

TC chanted that all night, as he watched her flirt with her latest boyfriend.

_She's safe like this. She's safe like this._

_She's_

_Safe_

_Without_

_Me._


End file.
